Éleyond
by Jack Lantern
Summary: Thirty years ago Haldir lost his Rohirric wife and son to death. For thirty years he has been living alone, cold and distant. Now Rumil tells him that Eleyond, Haldir's long dead son, is really alive and living in Rohan.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I own none of the Lord of the Rings Materiel. **

**Eleyond**

(Behold A Son)

The moonlight lay heavy over the realm of Lothlorien, and turned the creeping fog to silver clouds broken only by the awesome height of the ancient mellyrntrees. The blue lanterns of the elves gleamed like jeweled stars from the community of talans surrounding the main city of Caras Galadhon. It was a quiet evening in the early spring, and the leaves were beginning to fall as the earth breathed the promise of renewed life.

In the guard house where the Galadhrim soldiers were having a cheerful meal, the sounds of laughter and good natured joking rang. After the recent return of the sentries from the fences, everyone had a tale to tell or a prank to relate much to the enjoyment of the other elves gathered. Haldir, the High Warden of the golden wood was speaking to the captain of the detachment that had just returned.

Their conversation was light and easy as the captain was none other then his brother Orophin. Balancing a glass of wine in his right hand, Orophin was trying to draw a diagram in the air while describing an encounter with a band of Haradrium. Haldir, sipping his water slowly, listened with half his attention fastened on his youngest brother Rumil.

Anyone who knew anything about the three brothers knew that of all of them Rumil was the most temperamental. It was common for the dreamers among the elves to wrestle with their emotions as much as a seer, but Rumil was worse then most. While Haldir and Orophin could easily mask their emotions if needed, Rumil was an open book to those around him. A new Captain himself, Rumil was just returned from his positioning along the borders of Rohan.

He had argued at first, the placement was too safe; there was no glory to be had in the defense of a border that never posed much of a problem. Roving merchants and horses were all that ever concerned the Wardens along that border. But Haldir knew better then any that the burden of a Captainship was not one that should be hurried with overwhelming duties. Too many elves could be lost under the direction of an over burdened captain, especially a young one.

But nothing had happened on this last patrol, at least nothing more then an encounter with the leaders of some of the closer villages. It was routine to have some little contact with the men of Rohan, it helped maintain friendly relations between the peoples.

"Haldir, I get the impression that you're not listening to a word I'm saying," Orophin said. His eyes followed Haldir's gaze where it lingered on their younger sibling.

The young captain was staring into space, his meal untouched before him. Orophin gave a polite cough and nudged his brother a bit.

"I am sorry, what were you saying?" Haldir asked turning to his brother.

Orophin sipped his wine and shrugged, "Nothing really. I would like to have Ferevellon recruited to the swordsmen next month. From the yrch encounters we've had I can see he takes more readily to the sword then any other elf I know. I think it would be wise to move him to the sword ranks."

"He won't be happy about that; he wants to be among the archers." Haldir said absently, "But if he is better suited to the sword then I shall make it a point to test and train him myself."

"I certainly don't envy him that training, you nearly took my arms off several times," Orophin said.

"You never were swordsmen Orophin," Haldir smiled, "But then again I got to make those decisions for you, didn't I?"

"How does it feel brother? To be the High Warden and safe and secure in the knowledge that you are the most respected of the Galadhrim beside the Lord Celeborn? You never have to take the grudge duties anymore and you also get to tell everyone else what to do." Orophin said gesturing in a wide circle with his wine glass.

Haldir smiled and shrugged his broad shoulders, "I might be happy if I had more to do with my time. You've no idea how tedious it can be watching all the companies going out to patrol and you realize all you have to do is decide who goes and stays. I'd give it up in a moment if I could be in the fences with the men."

Orophin nodded and said, "But the Lady needs you here with the trainees because you are the most superior solider the Galadhrim have had since before god was born and…"

"Orophin, please. I have enough trouble with people accusing me of pride. I hardly need to have it over heard that you were listing my qualifications and I was pridefully listening to them." Haldir laughed and said, "I think I'll have a word with Rumil, he's looking for too pensive for my liking."

"I know what you mean. He might actually be thinking, and that isn't natural for _him_ at all." Orophin winked over his raised glass as his eldest brother walked across the dinning hall. Rumil didn't look up when Haldir swung his leg over the bench beside him, his brow was creased in thought and his eyes were seeing things far away.

"How now little brother," Haldir said cheerfully, "What news from the South of the world?"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," Rumil muttered darkly, "Please leave me alone."

Haldir cocked an eye brow and drank his water, "I see. And so nothing makes you look as if you just discovered that the Valar were allowing dwarves into Valinor? Come, Rumil. What is it?"

"Really, Haldir. I'd rather not say just yet." Rumil said and a hint of annoyance crept into his voice.

"Very well then. When will you be coming into the city?" Haldir asked, changing topics smoothly, "I'll have the maids prepare your room if…"

"No thank you, I'll be returning to the fences as soon as I can," Rumil said cutting of Haldir's words, "In fact, if you will give me leave I would like to go tomorrow."

Haldir starred at his brother. Rumil's eyes were begging him for permission, begging for silence and begging for Haldir not to ask why.

"Rumil, what is going on?" Haldir said lowering his voice.

"I've had…I have had a shock about something of great importance and it had been troubling my sleep. But please, please do not ask me."

Rumil's eyes were wide and his voice was a little horse as he leaned forward and whispered.

Normally, Haldir would have required knowing the reason for his brother's departure, but everything in Rumil's behavior screamed for privacy.

"Have you spoken to her ladyship?" he asked.

"Yes, she has agreed to my going. I await only your approval; I was going to speak you to you directly the meal was over."

"I see. Will you take one of the guards with you?" Haldir asked casually.

Rumil released the breath he had been holding and clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder, "Thank you Haldir. Yes, I'll take Erethon if you can spare him."

They stood together and began walking toward the door at the top of the hall. The Galadhrim around them called out to the captain and their general; they were glad to be home. Now, the pensive, quiet Rumil was replaced by one who fairly bounced down the room in his eagerness to be off. Haldir looked down at his brother and couldn't help but wonder what it was that was taking his sibling away again so quickly.

Haldir sent for horses and his lieutenant Erethon and helped Rumil arrange his few affairs.

The aforementioned archer came swinging down the stairs and asked breathlessly, "And for what reason are we off so soon and why must I go as well?"

"Because I asked for you and because you are the best bowmen in my detachment," Rumil answered quickly, "I promise not to keep you away long."

"I certainly hope not," Erethon said, "There are many pretty girls that I have yet to pursue in this world and I can hardly do that on special missions."

"Than perhaps we're saving the honor of Caras Galadhon's young maidens if keeps you away for longer periods," Haldir said over his shoulder and winked at his brother.

Erethon stopped packing his horse, "Really? You wouldn't do that would you lord warden?"

"I might, if I find out your behavior has been less then honorable." And Haldir adopted his best glare.

Rumil snorted softly and pushed his companion aside, "Don't listen to Haldir Erethon; he would never do such a thing. He appreciates a pretty face as much as the next man."

They laughed and finished the preparations for the ride. Erethon leapt into the saddle and waited as Haldir and Rumil spoke in low tones.

"How long do you think to be gone?" Haldir asked, "I may have to arrange for another captain to take over your detachment for the time being."

"I don't think that will be necessary Haldir," Rumil said, "I hope to return before a fortnight is out. Besides, I wouldn't have any of your captains teaching my soldiers all kinds of stupid bow techniques. It took me three weeks alone to teach them how to construct a proper makeshift bow!"

Rumil moved away but Haldir stopped him with a hand on his arm, "Rumil, just tell me this. Is the city in danger?"

Rumil shook his golden head slowly, "I would never withhold such information brother. This is merely a personal matter that I must see too."

"If you encounter any trouble at all…"

"I won't." Rumil grinned, "You taught me well, big brother. Take care."

"Rumil, as soon as you return please let me know." Haldir held up his hands in a gesture of placation, "I promise not to ask, I just want to make sure that…"

"I didn't go and get myself killed, "Rumil filled in, "Yes, I know. I wouldn't forget."

A long week went by without any word of Rumil and Erethon. The common reports from the fences told of seeing them riding for Rohan but no word followed. No one remarked on their absence with any great concern but as always Haldir was worried about the welfare of his men whenever they departed from the safety of Lothlorien.

"My lord Warden, the queen presents her compliments and asks that you come for an audience with her and the Lord Celeborn this evening."

Haldir glanced up at the young page that stood at the doorway. He stared straight ahead, not allowing his curiosity to deter him from his task. Haldir smiled, he liked to see that in a young boy, it would bode well if he entered the service of the Galadhrim.

"Thank you Gondien, you may be as ease." Haldir said and took a seat at his desk, "I will send a reply to my lady. Feel free to look about the room while you wait."

"Thank you sir," Gondien couldn't help the smile that quirked the corners of his mouth.

As Haldir composed and drafted his note he watched the young boy out of the corner of his eye.

Gondien was a mere twenty years old, young and boyish his face still holding the rounded look of an adolescent. It would be another thirty years before he was ready to enter into any serious study of service, but this service as a page under the lady was just the beginning. The position of a page put the young ellyn nearest the lady other then her maidens, and this engendered the deep love that each one held for their queen.

Haldir sighed and turned his attention back to the task at hand. He wrote few lines and sealed the missive. He was never good at giving a polite verbal message. His training had made all spoken messages rougher and command like then he thought suitable for a message to her ladyship.

"Gondien, take this to the queen with my respects," Haldir instructed. He walked to where the boy was admiring a sword with a broad blue blade, "Do you know who that belonged to?" he asked.

"I believe that it is made by the Teleri is it not?" Gondien answered, "The metal is Dol Amroth steel but the pattern is unique to the smithing of the Teleri."

Haldir nodded impressed," Very good Gondien, you exactly right. It's a rare sight to see such a blade as this anymore. The Teleri rarely devote their time to ought less besides the building of ships and sailing vessels, but there are a few smiths."

"Who did it belong to Sir?" Gondien asked. His eyes grew wide as Haldir took the sword from its position on the wall.

"This belonged to Prince Amroth himself and was given him by the Lady Nimloth when they were married."

"How was it saved? When the Prince was slain it was feared lost, I never even knew that it was still in the care of the elves." Gondien said.

"Oh well, it was preserved by a friend of the Prince and when his parents knew it they gave it to him," Haldir said off handedly, "You'd better set off now lad, but come back and visit from time to time. I'd like to say you a few other things as well."

"Yes sir," Gondien grinned broadly and bowed, "Thank you sir."

A tight, constricting feeling gripped Haldir's heart for the few moments that Gondien was in his sight. There had been the hope, many years ago that some day he would have sons and daughters of his own to love and care for and train in the ways he had grown to love. He had been wed, but that future had faded as surely as time claimed everything for its own.

Haldir did not have time to dwell on his melancholy thoughts because the door that had been carefully shut by Gondien was threw open by Orophin who broiled into the room with a black expression over his handsome face.

"Haldir, remind me to kill Rumil the next time he's well," Orophin bellowed, "I will never allow that little so and so to…"

"Rumil is back?" Haldir interjected.

"Two hours ago," Orophin said, "And he's…"

"Rumil returned two hours ago?" Haldir asked, "Where is he?"

"He went right to the house. Haldir, I think something is wrong." Orophin said, "You know what an ass he is about never telling us when his dreams are coming. He was as white as a sheet and shaking."

"Damn," Haldir brushed passed his brother and told his assistant to take care of any of his duties for an hour.

"Was he wounded? Or Erethon?" Haldir barked. He and Orophin were fairly running along the catwalks between the talans of Cara Galadhon, "He said there was no danger involved!"

"I don't think they were hurt at all. I saw Erethon and he was fine. He said they only visited a few of the Rohirrim villages near the border. They had no confrontations or anything, but a friendly welcome." Orophin said.

They came to the large talan that Haldir occupied and burst in the door. Two young elleths were setting the table for the evening meal and looked up startled at the suddenly appearance of their employer and his brother.

"Sidhiel, has my brother come home?" Haldir demanded.

"Yes sir, he went right to his room and has been there ever since." She explained a curious expression coming over her face.

"Thank you," Haldir said shortly and he and Orophin went up to the second level of the house where the bedrooms were located. The door to Rumil's chamber was closed and there was no sound coming from his room at all.

Haldir opened the door without a thought and said, "Rumil? Are you well?"

Rumil was standing at the window, his arms crossed over his chest and his head resting on his hand in a thoughtful gesture. He spun around when they entered and now his face went dark with anger.

"What do you mean by barging into my room like that?"

"Why didn't you come and report when you arrived in the city?" Haldir demanded, "The soldiery is always to report immediately to the guard. Erethon reported and that is the only reason I knew of your return."

"I am not a trainee Haldir," Rumil growled, 'I know my duty. However, I needed to … I would have been along in a moment." He finished, "But even this little offense wouldn't cause you to come bursting in there like a balrog in heat."

"And you should have the respect for the fact that you are a soldier and Orophin and I are worried about you!" Haldir bellowed back.

"Stop!" Orophin broke in, "Rumil, we thought perhaps you were injured. You're not yourself."

"Well, maybe I have a cause too!" Rumil shot back, "Now if we could all stop behaving like children I could do a little explaining!"

The three brothers stood there and Haldir still didn't look happy, but they sat down. Rumil eased onto his bed and folded his legs under him as he had done since they were children. Haldir preferred to stand but Orophin gave him a look that made him take the last empty chair.

"Now, what is this news?" Orophin asked, "Is there anything wrong?"

"No, in fact, the news is…I don't know how to describe it. It's a miracle, a beautiful miracle." Rumil looked at them with eyes that held a rare spark of pure joy.

"The dwarves have left Middle Earth to never return?" Haldir asked dryly.

"No such luck," Rumil smiled, "But Haldir, this involves you. It involves you very much indeed."

"How?"

"Well, it wouldn't have happened if well..." Rumil looked a trifle embarrassed, "Haldir, do you remember Tess?"

Dead silence fell over the room and unconsciously Haldir touched the golden band on his right fourth finger. His face had gone a little white but his expression was calm and his voice soft.

"Of course, how could I forget?"

"_What is your name miss?"_

"_I am Tess, the Tanner's daughter."_

"When she died," Rumil went on, "Her people weren't quite honest with you about everything."

Haldir felt his throat constrict, "What do you mean?"

"They said that Tess and the baby died, did they not?" Orophin asked quietly.

"Yes, they said he was too weak to live after she…passed," Haldir said, "They were buried together before we arrived."

Rumil was shaking his head, "But you see Haldir, they weren't. The babe, your son…is still alive!"

**TBC ….Looking for a Beta**


	2. Avari Min

**Disclaimer: I own none of the Lord of the Rings Materiel. **

**Avari Min**

(Unwilling One)

"Five, four, three, six!" Haldir called out instructions as he walked through the flashing swords of ranks of young Galadhrim.

The positioning of the ellyns and elleths was close to simulate the fray of a battle. The point and thrust of metal on metal and the perfect formation of their movements allowed just enough room for Haldir to walk through the ranks safely. Every soldier was aware that one slip could cause harm not just to one of their fellow Galadhrim, but their captain as well.

"Four, three six!" he called out the orders in a clear ringing tone that was just loud enough to hear above the sound of thirty elves moving in perfect unison in the deadly training for battle.

But today all of the trainees were aware that their captain's mind was else where other then the sand courts of the training ground. Ferevellon and his sparing partner were trading quiet comments as they met each other's attacks. Pilindiel was one of the few elleths that joined the ranks of the Galadhrim, but she was one of the most superior swordsmen of the entire detachment of trainees.

Matched with Ferevellon, Pilindiel was meeting with the first challenging encounter that she had come across beside that of the Warden himself. But even then she and Ferevellon had time to chat.

"He looks rather peaky doesn't he?" Ferevellon said whirling his sword around to clash with Pilindiel's, "They say he had bad news."

"Do you listen to idle gossip?" Pilindiel asked a delicate brow arched.

Ferevellon grinned, "Only when it's as interesting as this is. Don't let your guard down on the left or you'll leave an opening big enough to gut you."

"I know that," Pilindiel growled, "You have a habit of baring your right shoulder too quickly after the forward thrust of movement five."

Ferevellon smiled but ignored her, "What do you suppose the problem is?"

"I think that whatever it is he'd tell us if it was really so important." She answered.

At that moment Haldir called a halt to their exercises.

"Break into pairs for one on one sparing," he called. As the Galadhrim milled about finding partners for the next match Haldir noticed Lord Celeborn standing a few feet away watching the processes. The sylvan lord had never quite grown into the skin of being the greatest ruler of elves in Middle Earth. At times when he was not needed by his lady he sent with the Galadhrim.

Now, standing there, assigning their movements and clothed in the same nondescript tunic they all wore, Celeborn looked not a lord but a warrior. On his hip he wore a broad sword of marvelous make and delicate bracers around his wrists. With his arms crossed over his chest and his brow furrowed in concentration, he looked more formidable then he usually did.

Haldir nodded, "My lord, have you come to spare this afternoon?"

Celeborn shook his head, "Nay, only if you feel the need to smash something about. I'd hate to see you trying to match with one of these poor souls."

"They will be first rate swordsmen by the time their training is finished," Haldir commented, "In any case; I have no wish to smash things."

Celeborn put is head on one side and said, "But you're not happy with Galadriel's request that you wait before going back to Pellis."

"I do not see what the difference a few weeks would make my lord," Haldir said, his eyes focused away on the solider, "I respect your wife as none other, but there are times when I wish that…" Haldir stopped remembering to whom he was speaking, "Forgive me, my lord I shouldn't have spoken so."

Celeborn laughed and clapped a hand on his captain's shoulder, "Haldir you are only saying what many have thought but do not have the honesty to say. Galadriel would be the first one to admit that she isn't the easiest person to know or understand. But she is far seeing and her interests in your case a great."

"But why must I wait?" Haldir's voice was tenses, "I have lived for thirty years believing that my son was dead. Now I discover that he lives and I may not go to him. Celeborn, I am worried for him choice."

Celeborn sighed, his expression suddenly tired and knowing, "It must be very difficult for you. When Amroth was killed I thought that everything had closed in on us, that there was no going on except to Valinor. But we waited, as you must, and our decision to remain changed so many things in the world's history that I am grateful that we stayed."

"Even when Celebrian was taken?" Haldir asked brutally.

"Even though she was taken," Celeborn answered coolly, "Her marriage with Elrond, the birth of the twins and Undomiel may mean the difference between the strength of the world to carry on. There is nothing I regret in staying, Celebrian's kidnapping had nothing to do with it. You're bitterness is poorly aimed Warden."

"Forgive me," Haldir turned away.

The soldiery were all waiting on him to give the next order; their faces blank, as if they did not know their captain and Lord were disagreeing rather heatedly.

"Assume attack positions!" Haldir ordered, "Remember that this fight is to be for the duration for two hours so conserve your strength for the end of the battle. There will be times when the last few minutes in an encounter will determine whether you live or die. Therefore, watch for opportunities to use your opponent's weaknesses against them, make them work their hardest to get at you. Give nothing to them that you will not gain more then fifty percent back from them."

Celeborn's face was a perfect mask at this, but his mind was turning over the Warden's words and his tone and the body language that he was showing. Celeborn had practically raised Haldir and his brother's when their father had been murdered two thousands years ago. It was a common trouble with Haldir that he bound up every feeling in a tight reign; it was his strength and his weakness to keep his emotions in check.

"When the time is called be prepared, give no ground," Haldir scanned the figures of the Galadhrim and everyone was staring their opponent in the face, ready to spring.

"Begin!"

As the sounds of swords once again filled the air Haldir turned to his liege lord.

"My lord I am sincerely sorry for my rash words. I beg that you will forgive me," Haldir said.

Celeborn looked at his warden and saw the turmoil behind the cool, controlled mask of his features, "I know Haldir. I know. I think I will take charge of this session though, you go and take some time to speak with Galadriel, and it may be that you can change her mind."

Haldir offered a weak smile, "My lord, even the youngest elf in Lothlorien knows that you are the only one who can do that. But thank you, I think I will. I find myself fatigued lately."

As Haldir turned to go Celeborn stopped him, "Remember my son, it is alright to weep a little."

Haldir did not look at him, but gave a nod and went on.

"Haldir, I did not look for you today," Galadriel greeted the warden, "Did my husband send you?"

"Yes and no," Haldir answered, "I wanted to come and he encouraged it."

Galadriel looked at Haldir and smoothed her gown with one pale hand, "You are troubled by my decision, I know."

Haldir looked away and Galadriel thought she had seen tears in his eyes for a moment. But when he spoke his voice was calm and collected.

"I never thought that he was alive. I never suspected that they lied to me. How could they have lied to me my lady? How could they have such hatred for me that they would decisive me into believing my son had died?"

Galadriel sighed and began leading the way through the garden. The jasmine was in full bloom and the air was heavy with its fragrance. Haldir walked beside the lady, her hand resting in his arm and anyone passing might have thought they were mother and son.

"Thirty years is not an eternity Haldir," she reminded him.

"Not to the Halfelven," was his quiet reply, "From what Rumil has told me of Eleyond he has not yet made his choice. I doubt he even knows that he has one."

"Eleyond," Galadriel tasted the name on her tongue and smiled, "So you wish to run away to Rohan and tell him. And you think he will automatically choose the elven kin? He had grown to manhood among the Edain, his heart will be with them."

"He is of elven blood none the less," Haldir said, "Lord Elrond often said that even if he had not know of his parentage he would have ever felt the call of our people in his blood."

"Granted," Galadriel replied, "Yet, he did know as Eleyond must. But think Haldir, his family has kept him secret all of these years even from my sight. Do you think they have not spoken against you? If you were to rush in and try to win him back suddenly you may awake their and his greatest fears."

Haldir stopped, "I did not know what reaction my arrival might bring. Perhaps they will shun me, perhaps he already hates me, perhaps I will go and return empty handed. But," and his voice grew desperate, "I will have seen him, even if only for a moment. I will know he is alive and he will know that as soon as I knew of him I came. Whatever may happen I must go to Eleyond, he is my son and I as I failed his mother; I will die before I fail him."

Galadriel considered his profile, the tense jaw, the bright eyes and stubborn chin.

"I wonder if he looks as you do?" she mused aloud, "If he does you will have to tell me when you return."

Haldir stopped, joy flashing in his eyes, "My lady? Do you give me leave to go to him then?"

Galadriel laid a gentle hand on Haldir face and for a moment spoke to his mind, "I give you leave and all my heart to go. But remember, I have let you go for only a short time. You must not try to convince your son to come or stay but let him make his own choice. Let some other that you trust speak to him of that choice and you say no word of it. That is my condition."

"It is a small enough thing to ask," Haldir took her hand and kissed the palm, "Thank you."

As Haldir strode away from the Lady, she watched him go. Many had been the times when she had wished that he would find his happiness once again, but now she worried. Perhaps he would be rejected by his son; such a rejection may be the final breaking point for him. But then, Eleyond may welcome Haldir with open arms and a ready heart. A father and son together.

That was what Galadriel feared most of all.

Pellis had not changed over the thirty years since Haldir had been there. The village was still smaller then most, and the house still looked as though they would fall over in the slightest wind, but there were the same houses and it was the same village he had known.

Tess' village.

Since her death Haldir had never returned to Pellis, there was no reason. When she had died her family had made it clear they would rather never see him again, they blamed him for her death. But they had also lied to him.

The thought made Haldir's lips form a thin line and his hands tightened on his reins. The idea that nearly thirty years had passed in his son's life and they had kept it hidden was more then wrong, it was evil. The pain of loss that he had experienced had nearly torn him in two. When Tess died he felt part of himself go with her, but when he knew that their son had died as well.

Valinor's shores had beckoned then. Only his brother's reminder that he was needed in Lothlorien had given him a reason to stay. Even then he had spent the next twenty years walking in a kind of living death. Each day he had lived and functioned, but he did so like an automaton. His face and body were there but he was locked away with his grief for many, many years.

When the break had come for him it came with such a jolt that he was never able to go back to that cold reserve again. The desire to withdraw had disappeared, and a new determination was born. He lived for his brothers and his soldiers and the Lady and her Lord, ad that was enough. Now this miracle had happened, Haldir couldn't help but wonder what else would change.

_"She died," Castien said his voice breaking pathetically but his face hard as tears streamed down it, "She died calling for you, and you never came. You never came or sent word or let her know that you were even alive!'_

_"Castien, I sent word as often as I was able to do so," Haldir said desperately, he didn't allow himself to realize the finality of what his father in law had said, "I sent word by royal carrier more time then I can count."_

_"Then why didn't we ever hear from you? Not one message or letter or token came into her hands. You elves think that humans don't fade, but they do," Castien voice cracked savagely, "They do, I watched her wither away into a shadow before my very eyes and there was nothing I could do!"_

"Don't" Haldir whispered the word before he realized he spoke aloud. Rumil turned to glance at him but seeing that Haldir hadn't meant to be over heard pretended to check on the soldiery behind them.

Haldir cleared his throat and fired out his instructions for the evening to the men. While they were residing in any village they would, as a courtesy, protect the people. Most villages had little or no warning against any kind of invader and it was a small miracle that they hadn't all been killed in some raid over the years.

"Ferevellon take you men to the east and Erethon to the west. Orophin, Rumil you know where to go. Remember to keep you men well hidden and have as little connect with the humans as possible," Haldir said, "They are more wary of us here then in recent years and we do not wish to cause any undue alarm. While I am away Captain Orophin will be in command. That is all,"

Haldir dismissed them

"When will you go?" Orophin asked, "They not expecting anyone, and there maybe danger in you're going alone. Besides, they may not wish to see you again."

"I understand that," Haldir answered, his deep blue eyes scanning the horizon where the village was nestled, "But I would rather not face them for the first time with you by my side. They do not know you and I would prefer to keep a certain level of anonymity, especially if this meeting is unsuccessful."

Orophin studied his brother's profile for along moment, "He will know you Haldir, right away. I know it. He will not be able to help but know you."

Haldir glanced at Orophin as he strapped his sword onto his belt, "It is not that that I am afraid of Orophin, I am afraid of what they have told him."

"Castien, you may want to come out here," Elonde called from the doorway, "More elves from Lothlorien."

The tanner looked up sharply, "Where is Eleyond?"

"Out in the practice field with the men. Shall I send someone out to keep him away?" Elonde asked nervously. She shifted from foot to foot and twilled her dirty apron in her fingers.

The tanner wiped his stained hands on a rag and swore soundly and fully under his breath, "I tell you that if they think that they can come and take Tess's boy from us like that just because he's elven blood in his veins I swear."

"Oh please don't" Elonde said, "I don't want any trouble between us and them. Tess loved Haldir, you remember that."

Castien rounded on his wife and his face was red and angry, "Don't you mention him to me. He went off and left her for too long! He should have stayed by her side like any decent man. But he wasn't even that, he's an elf and I shouldn't have let them marry to begin with."

He shook a beefy fist in the hand as if the March Warden stood beside him. Elonde looked away out into the street where the people were gathering loosely around the elves that had just arrived.

"He'll come here first Castien," she said, "Shall I send for him or shall I keep him away?"

Castien sighed heavily and ran a hand through what was left of his graying hair, "Nay, nay. The chance to keep him secret is passed. He'll know anyway, he's one of them as true as can be and he'd feel it even if we never said a word to him about it. Send Belo after him, I'll go meet his father."

Elonde laid a wrinkled hand on his arm and said gently, "Remember Castien, she did love him. Don't make any trouble if only for her sake."

"I don't promise that Elonde," Castien shook his head, "Not even for you."

As Elonde disappeared around the corner of the house Castien made his way toward the growing knot of people that were gathering around the small village tavern when the elves were taking rooms. As they always had the elves awed Castien, much to his disgust, with their nobility and grace even while doing ordinary things.

There were four of them in all and at the head of the group was the one elf that Castien would have been glad never to see again in all his life; Haldir of Lothlorien.

"Get to his head! Get to his head!" Eleyond called of his instructions to the young man in the choral with the rearing horse.

"Get to his head lad, not under his hooves for the love of the gods!" Eleyond ducked under the thrashing hooves of the stallion and pulled the boy free while tightening his grip on the ropes.

The boy rolled several feet and came up in a minute, his face muddy but fierce.

"Let me back in Eleyond! I can do it myself!" he called out.

Eleyond laughed and said, "I'll not be taking you home with a hole in your head so your mother can hang me Faeron. Now keep back until I quiet him."

With a dirty look Faeron slipped out of the choral and watched as his uncle wrestled with the bucking horse. The stallion was a massive creature of pure black and a rich creamy mane. He had been allowed to run wild for the passed few years, but now he was being brought in for special breeding and he was not happy about it.

Eleyond danced his way out of the horse's hooves and began to speak to it. Faeron leant forward as this was his favorite part of his uncle training any beast, the calming and gentling way he spoke.

"There now my mighty one, come down," Eleyond's said, "You've been brought down, don't we all know? We are going to make you greater if you'll allow it. Strong one, unwilling boy, come down and tell me of your troubles."

The stallion would not give his head to Eleyond; he bucked back and reared again, but not so strongly this time. Faeron shook his head as he saw the slow calming effect that Eleyond's voice had on the animal.

"Come my handsome one, come down," Eleyond crooned.

He let slack the rope, a dangerous move, but Eleyond stepped closer, under the horse's hooves. The stallion snorted, pawing the air in a vague threat, but his breathe came in short harmless puffs. Eleyond reached out one long hand and laid it on the horse's heaving side. The horse snorted once, but came to Eleyond and nudged his shoulder with his soft velvet nose.

"That's right my beautiful one, a fine old charger as you are," Eleyond said and he laid his cheek against the horse's neck, stroking the sweat covered mane, "Fine king of horses err?"

The horse snuffled and nudged Eleyond's shoulder again, this time in a gentle playful mood. Eleyond kissed the horse's nose and turned to where his nephew was watching with admiration and envy.

"Now Faeron, don't you try that as quickly. But you have to reassure the animal that you have his best interests in mind. Since Rana feels his pride is hurt by being caged he's going to fight you. But if you can assure him that he'll be taken care of and that you love him, then he'll come to you."

Faeron snickered as the horses nudged Eleyond's shoulder again and again as if asking a question, "You should tell him we have the finest mare in Pellis waiting for him as well. If he knew that Harma was going to be his girl then he might calm as well."

Eleyond laughed, "Right you are lad. He's just a gentle lover isn't he?" and the Halfelf scratched the horse's brow, "Come on, we've got to get back to the house, Grandfather wants us."

Eleyond vaulted onto Rana's back and offered a hand to his nephew. Faeron settled behind his uncle and wrapped his arms around the Halfelf's waist to keep from slipping off.

"Why can't you use a saddle like everyone else?" he groused, "Even Iauron uses one and he's the best rider for five villages!"

Faeron felt a rumble of laughter in Eleyond's chest as he chuckled and urged the horse into a gentle trot, "Because I prefer to feel closer to the horse. And besides, I am not like everyone else."

This was certainly true. Eleyond was taller then any man in Pellis village, broad shouldered and stronger then any of them. In a land of blond families, Eleyond's sleek black locks stood out in stark contrast to those around him.

"Granddad doesn't like it when you say that," Faeron said, "I can't understand why. It isn't as if we don't all know you're perfectly normal. Well, beside your sickness but even then there plenty of people who has illnesses." Faeron said.

"Aye, but Grandfather is unhappy with my father, not me. As long as he thinks of my father he's as grumpy as an old crow, "Eleyond said, "So we never speak of him when Grandfather's around."

"Because he hates him," Faeron supplied.

"Apparently," Eleyond answered, but his voice had dropped down, but Faeron didn't note the tinge of regret in his uncle's voice, "Come; I have a feeling in my very bones that something is going on in the village."

"A party from Edoras? More new horses? Or is it just that Grandma wants us to clean the garden?" Faeron made a face.

"No, not any of those things." Eleyond answered, "Remember who came and visited a few months ago?"

Faeron's eyes lit up, "The elves? The Galadhrim from Lothlorien? Are they come again so soon? Mother said they haven't come as often in a hundred years!"

"They've come for a special purpose this time," Eleyond said, "I think they've come about me."


	3. Maeghen

**Maeghen**

(Sharp Eyed)

"Won't you go and speak to him?" Elonde asked.

She and Castien stood in the shadow of the smithy's lean-to watching the elves mingling with the people. Most of the people were listening in as Rúmil and Haldir explained that they would be staying for a time in the village. The mayor, a tall man with graying blond hair and a noble face agreed readily and even invited them to his own home.

"I've no reason to and as you think I'll kill him soon as look at him I'd best stay here." Castien answered. He crossed his massive arms across his chest and leant against the doorframe of the smithy, "Beside, I want to speak to Éleyond before he sees …him."

"What will you say?" Elonde asked concernedly, "I hope you're not going to go off on one of your speeches. Éleyond doesn't take it any better than Tess did."

"I'll not preach, but I want to warn him. I don't like the look of the party. Why would they bring more soldiers with them if they didn't mean something by it? Haldir was never one to do anything without a reason." Castien said, "Remember, Tess asked me to look after Éleyond when she died."

"Til Haldir came back," Elonde shook her head and tucked a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "Haldir's not a thief Castien, you know that. What his reasons may be I'm sure I don't know, but I hardly think it is anything mercenary. Although he may have every reason for our lies."

"He is here," Castien said heavily, "After thirty years he suddenly appears after we have a visit from some of his men? You can't say that it doesn't have a purpose, Elonde."

"I'm not saying it doesn't. I just don't think it's an evil one." Elonde answered. She placed a hand on his arm, "Why don't we go back to the house and wait for him? Belo should have reached them by now."

"Let's go off then," Castien said, "Their not going anywhere soon, not until they've seen Éleyond."

"And he'll want to see them, Castien, you know he will."

"Aye, I know that, I'll not stop him." Castien answered but as he strode away toward the tannery Elonde wasn't entirely convinced.

HHHHHHHHH

Haldir had handed picked those who into the village with him. It would not do for the people of Pellis to know that their village was surrounded by elves they already had enough trouble trusting. So, Ferevellon, Pilindiel and Rúmil were his only companions and they were enough to bring the entire village to their doors to stare with curiosity.

As Haldir's keen eyes swept the crowd of people he realized that while the village itself was not changed much the people had come and gone like the wind. He did not see a face he recognized, granted, there were those whose faces held familiar features, ghosts of people Haldir had known. They had taken room at the scrubby inn that was the only new building in the village and were now mingling among the people, trying to be friendly. Humans, Haldir thought, were very suspicious people, always thinking that every change in the world had something to do with them. In reality they were only in Pellis for one reason to find Éleyond.

But as Haldir and his soldiers spoke with the people in the square none of them saw a young man who even vaguely resembled a Half-elven man. After a few minutes of casual conversation Rúmil had found some of the men he had met the last time he had been in Pellis. Rúmil, unlike Haldir, had the ability to mesh with nearly everyone he met. When Haldir was younger, when he had been in Pellis the first time he had been just as gregarious, but time had hardened that friendliness.

Now Ferevellon and Pilindiel and Haldir all sat on the steps of the inn trying to look as unimpressive as possible. For elves to look unimpressive is extremely difficult, but the people did not seem to be as uncomfortable as the Galadrim had expected. Rúmil had explained that they must have grown accustomed to Éleyond elven blood and ways.

"I cannot imagine that they had much contact with the elves," Rumil had said, "I think they're simply used to seeing something like us."

Now, as Rúmil talked with the village leaders Haldir couldn't help but wonder when the time, the moment would come when Éleyond and he would meet.

"What will you say?" Orophin had asked. He handed Haldir his sword, "I have a hard time seeing you being met with a great deal of enthusiasm by a young man you've never seen before."

"I hardly expect that Orophin," Haldir replied dryly, "To be perfectly honest I have not thought about it. It is still too new to think of what will happen next."

Now as the lazy afternoon sun began to slant away toward the low Rohirric hills Haldir felt frustration beginning to tense the muscle across his shoulders. On the step below him, Haldir listened vaguely to Ferevellon and Pilindiel as they whispered to each other. Of all the company, Pilindiel was receiving the majority of stares and Haldir couldn't really blame them.

Pilindiel was beautiful, tall and willowy with red gold hair that fell in a curtain to her thighs. She wore it in a snug plait down her back now, but it only served to frame her delicate features more clearly. Pilindiel's parents were Vanyar by descent, but she had been born and raised in Lothlórien when the wood was young and new. Haldir had watched her grow from a child to a young woman, and the fact that she was strikingly beautiful seemed to be unremarkable to him even here.

But the Rohirric men, on the other hand, were quite a different case. They stood around their shops and corrals in little bunches, talking and watching and staring at Pilindiel, a few with adoration in their eyes.

"I think we will have to be watchful for you, Squire Pilindiel, from the looks of things," Haldir said off handedly.

"I hardly think that they will bother me sir," she answered, "I can take very good care of myself should the need arise; although, as a matter of course, that should be avoided at all costs."

"Very good Squire, you right. You must be friendly but keep a safe distance between yourself and the members of the Rohirrim. Some of their men are much larger then you and despite the fact they you are far superior in strength, they can out weight you, especially in numbers." Haldir pointed out.

"Sir, I will proceed with greatest caution," she answered, "But you would not have brought me here if there was a great danger to my person."

"You know me too well," Haldir answered. He suddenly stood and looked toward the south hills, "There's two riders coming this way fast."

Ferevellon and Pilindiel stood and searched the distance with their keen eyes and even Rumil felt the faint tremor that was unnoticed by the humans. The humans came to their feet when the elves moved and followed their eyes to where, in the distance dust rose heralding the approach of the two riders.

"You'll not beat me this time Belo!" Éleyond yelled out. He lay close to the back of the horse feeling the blood hammering through the animal's veins. Behind him, Faeron clung on for dear life as they thundered across the plain.

"You may be a better rider, but I have the best horse!" Belo called back, "Come Harma, come on girl let fly!"

The beautiful mare burst forward in speed and slowly gained on the black stallion that Éleyond guided with gentle touches. Not to be out done Rana pounded the turf and sweat rolled down his gleaming flanks as he defended his pride in the race. Soon the village was in clear view and the people in the street moved aside to make room for the racing pair.

Even at that distance, with the horse's mane blocking his view, Éleyond could make out the three figures by the inn steps. His heart jumped in his chest at the sight of them but he only leaned in closer to the horse and encouraged him on, the end was coming very soon. As they thundered passed the tannery Éleyond had a glimpse of Castien and Elonde but their words were whipped away in the rushing of the wind in his ears.

Into the square and passed the company they flew and at that point Rana moved into the lead. Faeron pressed his face against his uncle's back as the dust flew up from under the horse's hooves. He could hear his uncle's heart beating, calmly, steadily and alien unlike Faeron's own that leapt and jumped wildly in his chest. He did not notice the Galadrim, his own human eyes only seeing the flash of shapes going by and nothing more.

But as they reached the crest of the hill on the other side of the village, all Faeron thought of was beating his brother to the top. The horse's lungs strained and pumped air and with one final, effort Harma pulled into the lead and reached the crest a spilt second sooner then Rana.

"Ha! I told you she was a faster beast!" Belo yelled breathlessly, "She's as fine a horse as that stallion and better. In fact, I think we'd be better to find her a nobler mate."

"That's not fair Belo and you know it. Éleyond had me on the back and added weight throws a horse off his usual speed with only one rider." Faeron shot back.

"It doesn't matter," Éleyond answered, he smoothed his hand along Rana's neck, "They're both fine animals. Come on now boys, we've got to get back, your Grandfather is waiting for us."

They turned their animals back toward the village and the people who had been watching let go a collective breath. Ferevellon whistled lowly and said, "He's as fine a rider as I have ever seen! Did you see his eyes? They fairly blazed!"

"Yes, I saw them," Haldir answered slowly, "I saw them."

HHHHHHHHHH

What makes a father and son? Does the carnal process of begetting a life in a woman make a man or elf a father? Is the passion of a moment the meaning of fatherhood?

Éleyond had spent his childhood, his boyhood wondering what his father must have been like. Elonde had whispered stories to him when he was small, of how strong and brave and good his father was. She had told him how much his mother had loved his father, but never a word of his father's love for his mother. Even in her kind heart, Elonde could not imagine a man leaving a woman that he truly loved.

Éleyond had seen the true love of a father and son in the lives of his companions. For a time he had been consumed with the desire to have his father and be the same as the other boys, but then he knew that could never be. Normal boys did not have pointed ears; normal boys could not feel a plant growing or the song of the stars at night. Normal boys didn't understand the language of animals and real boys didn't feel torn between two worlds.

Éleyond grew up knowing that Castien hated his father, he would not even allow anyone to mention his name. When Éleyond had reached his adolescent years he had demanded to know his father's name.

Castien had refused point blank, but Éleyond had not given up.

"It's my right to know. He is my father whether or not you approve of him," he had said.

"A father doesn't do what he did," Castien answered angrily.

"What did he do? Abandon me?" Éleyond had yelled, "Am I the worse for being abandoned? I have a family to care for; friends and good company, but I do not know who my own father is! Do you think I will hate you if I knew him? Or do you fear that I will go to him?"

Castien's eyes fell from Éleyond's. "Yes, I fear that. I fear that you will leave as he did and all we have of your mother will go with you."

Castien was a hard man, but the thought of losing the young boy before him had brought tears, stubborn and raw into his brown eyes. Éleyond had seen them and immediately regretted his words, but he looked away.

"I need to know," he said.

"Haldir, his name is Haldir of Lothlorien."

After that Castien had never spoken of it again and Éleyond had never asked. There had been times, when the illness raged through his veins as the two halves of his race raged within him, that Éleyond whispered the name. It meant nothing to him; it caused no inner knowing of what his father might have been like. But it was all he had of the shadowy form that was his father.

Éleyond took his nephew's hand and swung him down from behind him and slipped lightly to the ground after him. He moved with a carefully measured pace tying the stallion to the hitch and taking in the elves standing by the inn. A tall golden-haired elf, powerfully built with curiously piecing eyes. Beside him a smaller blacked-haired elf very much like himself, and the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, the female warden. He nodded politely and they all returned the gesture. Aubrey, the mayor of the village, who had been engaged in conversation with Rúmil, beckoned Éleyond over to them.

The eyes of the elves and men alike bored into him. Éleyond walked right to Rúmil and bowed deeply.

"Captain Rúmil, this is an unlooked-for visit. What is the cause of you're coming, more questions?"

Rúmil smiled gravely, "No, Master Éleyond. I have come for quite another purpose. The last time I was here I came on an errand for my brother Haldir, High Marchwarden of Lothlórien."

And Rúmil nodded toward the powerfully built elf. Haldir moved forward as if in a trance. Éleyond and Haldir bowed but Haldir's eyes didn't look away from the face of the young man before him. The rough clothes of the Rohirrim could not hide the fact of his elven ancestry.

"I am honored," Éleyond said, he licked his lips and asked, "What can I do for you, Warden?"

"I am afraid I do not know quite where to start Master Éleyond. You see, my business is with you and although we have never met before this I assure you that I have the very deepest interest in you."

"I see," Éleyond slipped, "I suppose it has to do with my…" he waved a hand near his ears. "My parentage?"

Haldir shifted uncomfortably and glanced back to Ferevellon and Pilindiel as if wishing that they would answer Éleyond's question for him. Rúmil cleared his throat and tried to help a little.

"What my brother is saying is …"

"I understand what he's saying," Éleyond answered, "He knows my father does he not? Or," and here the young man's eyes grew wide and his breathing began to come faster, "He is… Captain Haldir?"

Haldir faced his son, cobalt eyes meeting cobalt eyes. The high cheekbones, the stubborn mouth were all his mother.

_The light was almost too bright as Haldir moved cautiously into the birthing room where Tess lay exhausted with a tiny red baby relaxing against her breast. Her hair was slick with sweat and the remains of happy tears streaked her face. _

_The midwife was clicking over Tess and her aid was carrying away the soiled and stained sheets and nightgown. Tess' face was so pale and worn and yet again Haldir saw the weariness of her humanity resting on her. The last few hours of listening to Tess' labor had nearly driven Haldir mad, but all thought of that vanished when he saw his newborn son in his wife's arms._

"_My love, how are you?" he gently smoothed her hair away from her eyes and planted a tender kiss on her lips._

"_Tired.__ Birthing is more work then I ever knew." Tess smiled and lifted the baby, a floppy little bundle toward Haldir, "He is beautiful, Haldir, he is your son."_

_Haldir took the minute body of his son in his arms and a feeling of wonder and terror came over him as he realized the greatest love and responsibility that he now had in this little child._

"_What will we name him?" Tess asked wearily. _

"_I do not know," Haldir answered laughing a little as tears brimmed in his eyes, "You have… you have confounded me, Tess. I do not know to say."_

"_Then we shall call him Éleyond," she answered, "Our first son."_

"_Yes, our son," Haldir answered and kissed the baby's cheek gently before nestling the babe down in his mother's arms._

"Warden? Will you not speak? Will you not enlighten me as to what cause has brought you to me?"

Éleyond spoke through clenched teeth, his skin a ghastly white against his dark hair. "For god sake speak!"

The room and vision faded and Haldir was looking into the eyes of a man, his son. How could he go on to say what was resting on the tip of his tongue? Haldir took a deep breath and went on in a business like manner.

"Yes, Master Éleyond. I am your father**." **


	4. Thalion Peredhel

**Thalion****Peredhel**

(Strong Half-elf)

Éleyond stared at the Marchwarden and felt his gut tighten at his words that sunk deep into his mind.

"What do you want?" he asked his eyes moving on to the rest of the elves, "Are these your other children?"

Haldir could not hide the shock on his face at the question, "I have never had any other children, Éleyond. These are soldiers of the Galadrim under my command." Haldir swallowed slowly, "I came to see you."

Éleyond pulled his eyes away from Pilindiel and back to his father, "Why?"

Such a simple question. So simple, why then did the answer have to be so difficult to answer? Haldir cleared his throat that was suddenly dry and clogged with unspoken words; years of words that threatened to overwhelm him now.

"Because I did not know you were alive."

Éleyond's eyes widen in disbelief. He gave a chuckle has erupted harsh from his throat, "Didn't know I was alive? What do you mean? How could you not? You are my father for god's sake."

Then realizing that the public street was no place for such a confrontation Éleyond turned away from Haldir. The Marchwarden felt the eyes of the people boring into his face, their faces masks of shock and surprise and curiosity of the highest degree. Haldir suddenly felt anger tearing at his emotions. Why did this have to happen before all the gathered populace of Pellis and why did it have to happen like this. He moved a step toward his son who still faced away from him.

"I do not think now is the time to speak of such things, son--"

"My name is Éleyond, Warden," the young man faced him, his features as flinty and cold as Haldir's own, "If you wish to continue this conversation at a time more convenient to both of us, I will be glad to do so. I have-- I have things to do, duties that I must perform before the sun sets. Where can I find you?"

"We're staying at the inn," Haldir answered weighing his words with equal calm and directness, "I will be there whenever you are ready to come."

Éleyond nodded, "Then I shall. Til then, Warden."

"Master Éleyond," Haldir bowed and his son followed suit.

As the two parted ways the spell that seemed to have cast itself over the crowd broke and they scrambled away in bunches to gossip about the amazing news that Éleyond's no-good deserter father had come back. Éleyond strode across the village, his long legs covering the ground with little effort. Behind him, Belo and Faeron had to ran to keep up, the horses following with a jingle of harnesses. The two young boys exchanged glances and shrugged their shoulders. Nether one of them was going to be the first to speak to their uncle about what had just transpired. Each could feel the waves of stress rolling off their uncle like sweat.

"I'll take the horses in, Belo," Éleyond said taking the reins from his nephew, "Just go in and tell your mother that I'll be late for dinner tonight."

"Alright," Belo said relinquishing the horses without a fight. Normally the boys would have kicked up no end of a fuss to tend to the two fine horses. But considering the wildness of Rana and their uncle's unusually ruffled temper, their simply went into the house to see what their mother needed.

Éleyond lead the two horses to the corral and slipped the harnesses and tackle off their gleaming heads. Rana nickered softly and nudged Éleyond's shoulder. The young Perehel patted the charger's neck in return.

"Yes, my fine one, yes. Even we have our troubles at times. Even I have to be reined in suddenly. What should I do my beautiful?"

Ran tossed his head and whinnied, tossing his head back and forth toward the open plains on either side of the corral. Éleyond couldn't help a laugh as he smoothed a hand along the stallion's cheek, "I know, you think a hard gallop is the cure for every ill. Well, maybe you're right. But this time I have to face it head on. I've been waiting for it for years."

And Éleyond realized that he had. He had been waiting for the day when something or someone came to tell him what to do next with his life. Éleyond had never followed the usual course of life as his childhood companions had. Most of them were married and raising children of their own, he was still living alone; working on his own small farm and with the various herds that made up their tiny village. He had never even thought to wed and settle down in the sense that his friends had done. And it was all because he had been waiting. Now that the wait was over he didn't know what to do next. What had the Warden said? Something about coming to speak about it.

Éleyond sighed and vaulted over the corral gate. What was there to talk about exactly? Oh, I left you alone all your life but came to see if you inherited my nose? Éleyond shook his head. The Warden was not that kind of man. He was the kind of man that thinks hard and feels deep and does nothing without putting his entire soul into it. Éleyond didn't have to know Haldir long to know that much. But why come now?

Suddenly his walk slowed before he reached the house, his legs feeling heavy and hot. The Perehel pulled his hand across his brow and saw the sweat leaving streaks on his tunic sleeve. He stopped dead and stared at it for a moment. Then he felt the familiar rise in his temperature and the strange weakness began to turn his limbs soft and useless. A quick glance around showed that the street was empty, everyone having gone inside for dinner. Falling to his knees, unable to support himself, Éleyond tried to call out to the boys and their mother in the house that was so near. But his voice was only a soft exhalation before blackness over came his sight and he hit the ground unconscious.

HHHHHHHHH

Haldir never slept that night. He waited in the common room for hours for his son to appear. The worn out floor boards complained under his heavy tread as he passed over them again and again. Pilindiel had taken a book and sat by the fire pretending to read, while Rumil and Ferevellon argued over a game of chess. The innkeeper and his family moved around the inn on tip-toe as if any noise might offend the sensitive ears of their guests. In fact, the groaning of house and the usual everyday noises were easily enough heard, but it graded on Haldir's nerves that they crept about instead of going to and fro like normal people.

Haldir almost laughed. Normal people. What did he know about normal people? He spent too much time over the last thirty years deep in the heart of Elvendom. He knew very little about the way humans acted when they weren't under threat or suspecting you of some dastardly magic plot. The door to the kitchen opened and the innkeeper appeared bearing a tray with a few mugs on it, all foaming with beer.

"I thought ya might want a little something to relax with," he said carefully studying their reactions, "It's the best in the house. Should any of you care to sample some?"

Rumil stood without a word to Haldir, "Yes, indeed. I haven't had a good mug of ale in a thousand—I mean, years." Rumil grinned in his boyish fashion and smoothed over his mention of thousands of years. The elves had learned over time that mentioning huge gaps of time to humans unnerved them even more about immortal beings.

Accepting the offered mug, Rumil drank down a mouthful and licked the foam from his lips, "Made with barley?" he asked.

"Yes, master," the innkeeper said with pride, "Grown out in my son-in-laws own fields outside of Pellis. And a finer field you'll never seen sir."

"I've no doubt." Rumil shoved mugs into Ferevellon and Pilindiel's hands. They accepted them and after thanking the innkeeper and trading sidelong glances they tasted the alcohol.

Meantime the innkeeper had gone up to Haldir and offered him some.

"No, thank y--" he began and whirled toward the door a second before the door burst open and a small, woman hurtled through. Tripping on an uneven board she was thrown off balance and Haldir grabbed her to keep the frail woman from hitting the floor.

"Oh, Haldir," she sobbed, "You've gotta come now! Éleyond's ill and I know he needs your people's aid!'

Haldir looked down at the wrinkled face and red rimmed eyes without recognizing them. Then a picture of a round, buxom lass of thirty years ago came to his mind and he said, "Elonde? Is it you?"

She collapsed against him, "Yes, but go. Go, to Éleyond! He's sick as anything and I'm afraid that it's worse this time because you lot are here and I--" she covered her face in his wrinkled hand and burst into a torrent of fresh tears.

Haldir turned to Rumil, "I have to go. I want you to stay with Elonde and keep her calm. Ferevellon, Pilindiel, come with me."

"Hurry," the old woman cried, "before anything happens to the poor boy."

Haldir resisted the impulse to hurtle out the door and laid a calming hand on her shoulder, "I will go, Elonde. Nothings going to happen. Come as soon as you've caught your breath."

With that he and the two young elves left the inn and made across the town. Haldir needed no direction to the Tanner's house. His keen eyes saw every detail of the sagging roof and the barn as he ran out the steps. Light blazed from every window and the family was milling about in the vestibule, talking in lows voices. Haldir just saw two boys in one corner looking scared and their mother, a youngish woman in her thirties trying to calm them. She looked at Haldir in surprise and awe but relief staining her worn features more then anything.

"Where is he?" Haldir demanded.

'In the next room," she pointed, "but his granddad's in there and I don't think--"

"I don't give a damn about what his grandfather thinks," Haldir said shortly and pushed through the people and into the room.

Castien was there, holding the trembling and shaking form of Éleyond in his brawny tanner's arms. Seeing Haldir he snarled, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Elonde came for me. She said that Éleyond was sick and needed help," Haldir said moving closer. Castien laid the unconscious form of his grandson on a low cot and turned to the Marchwarden, his ruddy face inches from Haldir's own. He was the only man in town who came near the elf in strength and he certainly matched him for temper.

"We don't need you here. We've dealt with this before and we'll do it again without you sticking your nose in," he said. He pointed toward the door where Pilindiel and Ferevellon stood in readiness should the encounter turn ugly. Ferevellon's eyes were assaying the condition that the young perehel was in and his merry face was grime.

"Elonde said it was different. She's afraid, Castien. Now I can live with insults to me and my people but I'll be damned if you keep me from my son now," Haldir's eyes blazed and his whole body was tensed to fight if the human tried to remove him.

Ferevellon moved forward and said softly, "Master Castien, I am a healer of my people and what your wife says is the truth. He is gravely ill. Please, let me see to him."

Castien's eye flickered over Ferevellon's concerned face and went back to the pain wreaked perehel on the cot. He moved aside and said, "Then go to him, but I'll not let you stay in this house Haldir. You've no authority here. You came to please, Elonde. Now go because I command it. I won't stop your comrades from tending to him but I'll not have you under this roof."

Haldir's jaw worked and Pilindiel could almost hear his teeth gnashing together. She moved forward to his side, "Shall I stay with Ferevellon, Sir?"

"Yes, let me know if you need anything more. I will wait outside," Haldir turned and his eyes held her's, "If anything happens. If he grows worse or weakens further, come and get me."

"I said--" Castien began

"If my son dies tonight then nothing you could do would hold me from coming to him," Haldir said icily.

He left the room and the two elves turned their attention to the young man. Castien sat down again and put a hand on Éleyond's shoulder.

"I take it that this is not the first time that Éleyond has been taken ill in this manner?" Ferevellon asked.

"No. He's had it ever since he was a little one, we don't know why. It comes upon him every few months with no warning. His body becomes weak and his so hot to touch that you'd think his body would burn up. But he's always gotten well again. We just care for him like anyone that's ill and he rallies. But today," Castien's eyes clouded, "I found him in the yard so after your meeting with him, and he's not shown a sign of life since then."

Ferevellon nodded, "I understand. Could ask someone to fetch some water? See that it is as cold as possible."

Castien hesitated by Pilindiel said, "We will take good care of him, sir. Please, bring the water."

Ferevellon worked over the feverish body of the perehel. The temperature was high, and his skin was dry to the touch. Over the course of the next several hours the two elves and Rumil nursed the ill perehel while Castien watched like a guardian lion over his grandson's bed. Haldir paced a groove into the ground and prayed that the Valar would see fit to spare his son from death.

"He's too young," he prayed, "And I have had so little time to be with him, to see him. Please, great Illuvatar, spare my son."

HHHHHHHH

"Nothings working,' Rumil said. He spoke in elvish and watched the expressions on the humans' faces remain blank. He didn't want to alarm them to his fears.

'Isn't there someone we could send for?" Pilindiel asked. She stood by the door bringing in new water and towels from the human women in the kitchen.

Ferevellon shook his sleek head, "No. Even if we could send for Lord Elrond himself there's nothing he could do. This is an illness of the blood. All we can do is fight the symptoms. If we could get the body to cool and get him conscious that would be something..." his words trailed away and he snapped his fingers, "Of course! That's it!"

"What?" Rumil and Pilindiel asked together.

"Well, the only thing that I have ever seen awaken a patient quicker then magic is this!' Ferevellon held up a small crystal bottle of deep crimson liquid. The light shone through the cut crystal and shone in a bloody light over the elf's hand. Turning to Éleyond's grandparents he said in common, "This should help him."

The young man stirred restlessly and he gasped slightly. Ferevellon touched his forehead again and taking the tiny flask in his hand the elf poured a little between the perehel's lips.

'What are you doing?" Rumil hissed, "What is that?"

'It's something I've been saving. Well, so much for saving this for a special occasion," the healer murmured, "Now I have to use it on you. And if this doesn't wake you, I don't know what will."

Ferevellon rubbed the unconscious man's throat and in reflex Éleyond swallowed the wine. A moment later color returned to the perehel's cheeks and his breathing became deep and even. Almost immediately his eyes flew open and he gasped, sitting up to draw great lungfuls of air in. The humans and elves looked at Ferevellon as he corked the flask with a grin.

"Good old Imladris wine," he chuckled, 'Always the does the trick."

"What? You gave him wine?" Pilindiel's eyes widened in shock, "You ass! So much for your 'I'm a healer of my people' bit. No wonder he's perking up. Honestly,"

"You'll be lucky if that doesn't kill him out right," Rumil said.

But Éleyond was far better. His eyes were bright and his temperature was falling amazingly.

'What—was that?" he rasped.

"Wine," Rumil explained, "Special medical wine that we keep for moments when we haven't a skilled healer nearby," this with a frown at Ferevellon, "You should feel alright soon."

"I feel wonderful," Éleyond said, "Must be strong stuff."

"You have no idea," the warden murmured.

As Ferevellon passed Castien the man stopped him with a massive hand on his arm. Bracing for some insult, Ferevellon was surprised when the tanner said, "Thank you elf. Thank you for saving our boy."

"You're welcome sir," Ferevellon responded, 'but I saved him for his sake and for the loyalty I give to my warden. Haldir cares far more for the boy than I ever could. I hope you can see that."

Castien frowned, but he nodded, ' You have my thanks."

They left the young man to his grandparents and met Haldir outside looking as if he was going to tear the building apart. To the rest of the assembled company he was as cool and calm as ever.

"How is he?"

"A bit drunk maybe but nothing more serious," Rumil said annoyed, 'Now."

Haldir's face was a study of confusion, "Drunk?"

HHHHHH


	5. Athan Lothlorien

**Athan****Lorien**

**(Away from Lothlórien)**

Haldir had exchanged his uniform and tunic for the nondescript civilian clothing that he wore when he was off duty. While not as imposing as the armor and bright scarlet cloak, the beautifully woven and tailored elven clothing still made him stand out in the group. Still, Haldir was able to get from one end of the tiny market to the other without anyone noticing him, much.

It was market day and all the out lying farmers brought in their produce and eggs to sell and barter for whatever they needed that they couldn't fashion with their own hands. The smithy roared as horses were shod, plows were mended and men traded for bright new harnesses. A thousand familiar smells floated from the pies and bread that the women who selling, mingling with the scent of summer apples that had been brought from the forest edge on the borders. Their fragrant spice was almost foreign to the treeless plain and many children eyed the ruby fruit with hungry eyes.

Elonde worked the leather booth with her daughter, Castiel, the woman who was the mother of the two boys Haldir had seen the previous night. For a moment Haldir and Élonde's eyes connected and she inclined her head. But Castien was coming toward the booth and Haldir didn't stop. He wanted to avoid any further confrontations with the human. They served no good purpose and only served to drive a wedge between the families. For Haldir knew, Éleyond loved Castien like a father.

The thought left a bitter taste in the Warden's mouth, but he didn't dwell on it. Rúmil had taken Ferevellon out to one of the guarding posts to retrieve more medical supplies and to consult with any of the other healers that they had brought with them. Elrond's famous wine could only do so much and Haldir wasn't about to stake Éleyond's life on its restorative powers, no matter how potent. Pilindiel had come to the market, but without Haldir. Dressed in a simple brown work dress she had pulled from nowhere, she moved among the booths examining the wears the various people offered.

She laughed and smiled in her free and winsome way that Haldir knew was a carefully kept attitude so she could win trust. Humans often thought this was subversive behavior, but they really had no idea how hard it was to earn their trust. Pilindiel was doing so with a pretty face and friendly eye. Even as she allowed a jewelry merchant to tie a string of glass beads around her throat, she was gaining their trust and learning how to reach them better.

"Warden?"

Haldir turned and found himself, for the second time, face to face with his son.

"Éleyond," he answered. He bit back the urge to ask if his son was well, should he be out after such an illness, was he all right. Éleyond's face was pale but not abnormally so. He wore a worn tunic and seemed ready for a ride in the plains instead of a festive market day.

"What can I do for you?" Haldir asked.

"I came to see you. And since that is the reason you came to Pellis, I think we had better have a chance to speak without the inference of my loving, but worried family."

"I agree," Haldir nodded, "Is there some place we could...?"

Éleyond considered his father a moment, "You once lived here, Warden. I think you might know a place better then I."

"Then come," Haldir answered.

The people parted to allow the two room to pass by and whispers filled the air where they passed. Haldir could almost feel Castien's eyes on the back of his head, but the tanner didn't interfere. That was well; Haldir couldn't have had much more patience with the man if he kept butting in. As if sensing his father's thoughts, Éleyond said, "You never liked him did you?"

"Who?"

Granfather—Castien."

"No," Haldir replied and then blinked in surprise at his son, "How did you know?"

Éleyond gave a half smile, "It isn't hard to tell. My Grandfather has never been secret about his dislike of you, and your temperaments are exactly alike. Although you hide your dislike far better; you make a formidable commander no doubt."

"I believe there are those among my company that would agree with you. But I did not gain my position in the Galadhrim because I was lacks."

"No, I imagine not," was the amused reply.

Éleyond followed his father toward the well that lay just out of the town's gate. It was an old well, deep but dry for many years. Grass had grown up around the crumbling stonework and the wood cover was sagging wearily.

"Your mother and I came here often to talk," Haldir said, 'It was the only place Castien never thought to look for us."

"Why?"

"Because your mother hated fetching in the water. She complained about it all the time." Haldir said laying a hand on the cracked handle.

"I never knew that," Éleyond responded, "They never speak of her."

Haldir sighed softly and sat on the edge of the well, looking down into the depths, "Neither do I."

"Then why have you come now?" Éleyond asked, "You must understand that your appearance has thrown everyone in the family into turmoil. I assume you know they think you're going to kidnap me."

"I thought it was a likely conclusion for Castien," Haldir answered. He narrowed his eyes against the morning sunlight and said, "What do you think?"

"I think you might have done that if I was a boy, but since I am a man you have to persuade me to come back to Lothlórien with you." Éleyond crossed his arms over his chest in an unconscious mimic of his father, "Am I right?"

"I like to think I would have been a bit more democratic about it, but I fear you're right. I would have taken you even if I had to fight the whole village."

Éleyond gave a mirthless chuckle and said, "That is what I do not understand, Warden. You claim to have a great deal of affection for me and yet you only came to see me when I have already reached my majority. I find it difficult to believe that you came to see me for fatherly love."

Haldir stared at his son, every feature that Éleyond had inherited from his mother evident in his challenging face. This was the part that he had been dreading.

"I did not know that you were alive," he whispered, "I thought you were dead."

The following silence was painful. Dust was kicked up by the wind and swirled around them in little eddies. Éleyond's face had gone pale, confusion reigned in his eyes. His mouth formed the words, 'dead' but no sound came.

"Why? Why did you think I was dead?"

"I was told, incorrectly, that you and your mother died together," Haldir lied, "The message must have been changed by accident on its way to me."

"And you never came to see for yourself?" Éleyond asked.

"No," Haldir lied glibly, "And I see I was wrong."

"You'll forgive me if I hate you for it," Éleyond said coldly, "And you were wrong. Very."

Haldir winced inside from his son's words. But he had had to lie to Éleyond. His son would never thank him for destroying his faith and trust in the one man he had called father all his life. Even if he hated Castien for other reasons, Haldir could do that to the human. Haldir would have the rest of eternity to explain once the old man had passed away. But not now, not when his relationship with his son was poised on so thin an edge.

Éleyond's voice caught and he began firing questions at his father in rapid fashion, "And so how did you learn I was alive?"

"My brother Rúmil saw you when he was here last. He knew that you were my son immediately and came back to Lothlórien and told me."

"How?" Éleyond demanded.

"What?"

"How did he know it was me? That I was your son?" his voice held a curiously pleading tone, as a child asking, 'do I look like you', to their parent.

Haldir tapped his nose, "This, an unfortunate family trait, I'm afraid."

"Our noses?" Éleyond gave a laugh, "Our noses, not the ears? Everyone always notices them first. That or the eyes."

"But the ears and eyes are characteristics of any Peredhel," Haldir explained, "Only one of my descendant's could have inherited my nose."

"By the gods, I should have known," Éleyond said, "It would be my luck to be recognized for my nose."

"In any case, "Haldir went on, "he came home and told me. I came as soon as I could."

"Well, then that's that," Éleyond said with finality, "what do we do now?'"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," Éleyond said angrily, "What do you want now? You've seen me, explained about the situation and now here we stand with nothing more to say to each other."

"No. No, that's not true." Haldir cut in harshly, "I didn't come here to see that you were my son and leave. I came here because for years I've lived under the illusion that my only child was dead and suddenly I find him alive. I came hoping that I could, somehow, gain your friendship and..."

"And what? Love me? Warden, I understand, perhaps more fully then you think what you must be feeling. But neither you nor I know a thing about the other. I cannot love you and even though I am your son, you cannot just love me like a father would because you do not know me."

Éleyond moved to stand before his father, their eyes locking again, "Even if I were to go back to Lothlórien with you, and live as an elf the rest of my days I would not have that son's love for you. I am not an elf in the sense you understand. I am human, I have human feelings and hopes and dreams. I have wild human emotions that are based on the thought of a short life. I do not have the time that you have to begin another life. I do not believe you can understand that, Warden."

"I loved your mother, Éleyond," Haldir said brutally, "And she was as wild a human and short lived as any I have seen beyond those who perish in war. You hide behind this facade of humanity because you are afraid."

"What! How dare you say that? You who abandoned me to the point of not even assuring yourself of my death? How can you say that?"

"Because I am afraid," Haldir shook with his emotions, "I am afraid that after finding you alive that I will lose you to the senseless mortality of men. I will lose you twice over, and the pain will be all the greater, because I have seen and spoken to you. I will know that the world has lost another good man. And human or elf, you are my son and I cannot help loving you."

Éleyond stared at his father; the tears that gathered in his eyes against Haldir's every will. He could feel his father's pain rolling over him, and he felt the answering throb in his own heart.

"I was born into a world without you, Warden," he said, "I only knew you as a name. Now, I am dying because of you and my mother. You're right, I am afraid. I am afraid that everything in my life is falling apart around my ears and I have nothing to do with it."

"Then let me help you," Haldir pleaded, "Let me show you how to live as an elf."

"You mean leave Pellis," Éleyond jerked his chin toward the village, "I can't, it would kill my grandfather. Even if you hate him, he's been the only father I have known. He's rough, but kind. I could never leave him. He isn't well and hasn't much time left to him. My leaving would be the end. No, I cannot leave."

Haldir felt helpless inside. He didn't know what to do so say next. Then a fresh breeze sprang up around him and a tickle of conscious invaded his thoughts.

_Stay with him, Haldir._

Haldir almost smiled. He knew what he would do, what he had done thirty years before.

"Then Éleyond, there seems to be only one course of action," he said firmly, "I will stay here."

**HHHHHHHHH**

"I don't like it," Ferevellon said, as he and Pilindiel packed their bags.

"Neither do I, but there's nothing we can do about it," she answered. She snapped out the dress she had worn that day and smoothed it into a tight roll before packing it into her bag.

"It just seems, unfit somehow,' the healer went on, "Behavior quite unfitting really."

"Not if you consider the fact that it's happened before," she said, 'I am sure that the lord and lady know what their about when they give orders like that."

"I think it's a shame. Only mortal woman should do things like that. We Eldar should be above such things," Ferevellon grumbled.

Pilindiel paused and looked at Ferevellon in confusion, "I don't think we're on the same page, Ferevellon. What are you talking about?"

"You, and those..._people_ in the market, fawning all over you in that sickening human fashion. It was disgusting the way those men went on about how 'fair you were' and what 'a fine lass you made in that gown' and their comments about what a buxom wife you'd make someone someday... as if you need worry about finding a husband. Rúmil thought it was funny, but I didn't."

The healer rumbled on, oblivious to Pilindiel's reaction. She was standing there staring at his bent head with a broad smile on her lovely face.

"Oh, well. I was talking about Haldir remaining in Pellis." she said and quickly focused her attention on strapping her bag closed.

Ferevellon's head shot up but Pilindiel's relaxed posture indicated that she hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary in his words. He sighed, and smiled when she looked up at him.

"I'll be glad to get home," he admitted.

"So will I. I don't see how Haldir will be able to stand being away from Lothlórien so long. He's famous for his love for the Golden Wood." her eyes sparkled, "It would be amusing to see how long he will last."

Ferevellon grinned wickedly, "Shall we have a bet on it?"

"Why not?" she laughed.

**HHHHHHHHH**

Rúmil scanned the town and the few people that were watching the elves depart. Turning to his brother he said, smiling.

"I don't like it, but I don't suppose that will change your mind any."

"Not the slightest," Haldir answered seriously, "You will speak to the Lord and Lady?"

"Certainly, but I think she probably already knows," Rúmil pressed his lips together, "I hope you know what you're doing, Haldir. I don't want to come out here in three months times and find that tanner fellow murdered you and ate you for breakfast."

"Rúmil, I am sure that if I should be eaten you would hear of it before anyone else." he embraced his brother tightly, "give my greetings to Orophin, he'll be furious he wasn't told first. And take care of the Wood for me."

Rúmil smiled and shook his head, "If they don't kick you out, Haldir you will be back in a few months time. You just won't be able to stay away."

"I assure you that I will be fine," Haldir said dryly, "Take good care of yourselves."

"We will," Rúmil called out, "Pilindiel! Ferevellon! Ready? Move out!"

The two riders became their way across the plain with farewell nods to Haldir. Pilindiel looked a bit unhappy, but Haldir had insisted that she return to Lothlórien for her own safety. Even if the majority of Pellis was made of good up standing citizens, he wasn't going to have her take the chance with the few bad apples.

Rúmil wheeled his horse and asked, "By the way, why would I know you were dead before anyone else?"

"Because," Haldir's eyes glowed with mirth, "I'd come back to haunt you."

"Ye gods," Rúmil exclaimed irreverently. Then, pulling up his horse thundered over the plain to catch up with the other two.

While his heart longed to be with them, returning to the Golden Wood, Haldir felt the pull of his own flesh and blood more. He found Éleyond standing behind him when he turned, the young man's eyes following the rapidly disappearing elves.

His eyes fell to his father and he offered a half-hearted smile, "Well, you're still here."

"Did you tell your grandfather?" Haldir asked, ignoring the comment on his presence.

"Aye, and he's mad enough to chew nails. He's in better health now than in years, I think the anger is doing his heart good," Éleyond shrugged his shoulders toward the town gate, "I thought you'd better stay with me. I've a small house on the--"

"--Outlying border of the town, I know," Haldir smiled, "Your mother and I lived there while we were married."

"Oh," Éleyond looked surprised, "Maybe that's why I like it so well. Is there anything else I should know about it?"

"It maybe haunted, "Haldir said, "There was always the worst pounding over the bedroom ceiling when--"

"When the wheat was just getting ready for harvest," Éleyond smiled, this time the expression reaching his eyes, "I think I already knew that."

"It still happens then?" the warden asked disbelieving.

"Never a night in autumn when it doesn't," the Perehel grinned, "I guess this will be like old times won't it?"

"We can try," Haldir said. And he and his son walked into the gates and through the streets to their home.

**HHHHHHHH**


End file.
